


One, Two, Freddy's Cumming in You

by FunYUNDERE



Category: A Nightmare on Elm Street (1984), A Nightmare on Elm Street (2010), A Nightmare on Elm Street (Movies 1984-1994), A Nightmare on Elm Street - All Media Types
Genre: Bathtub Sex, Cunnilingus, Fingering, Gore, Love Triangle, Masturbation, Multi, Object possession, Oral, Phone Sex, Possession, Threesome - F/M/M, Vaginal, Voyeurism, Wet Dream
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-01
Updated: 2018-05-28
Packaged: 2018-12-22 08:18:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 7
Words: 3,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11963421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FunYUNDERE/pseuds/FunYUNDERE
Summary: Imagines/reader-inserts for the Nightmare on Elm Street franchise.





	1. Phone Sex

**Author's Note:**

> Will probably have other love interests besides Freddy. Rejected titles for this collection include: _A Tight Rear on Elm Street_ , _A Nightmare on Elm Street 3some: Cream Warriors_ , and _A Wet Dream on Elm Street: Freddy’s Ravage_. 
> 
> Check out my imagines blog: tawneybelvedere.tumblr.com.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Imagine fucking with Freddy Krueger, in both senses of the word.

“I’m your boyfriend now, _____.” 

Something wet and warm lapped at your lips. You almost dropped the phone when you saw that its mouthpiece had morphed into the lower half of your tormentor’s face. 

_Freddy wants to fuck with me? Fine, I’ll fuck with_ him _._

You tilted your head and painted a nice, long diagonal swipe against his lips. 

“The fuc-?” 

Without much thought you pressed your mouth against his. Then you realized how badly this could end. You wondered if he would bite a piece out of you or maybe even spit venom down your throat. But no, he just slithered into your mouth, his slick tongue caressing your own. 

You moaned into the kiss, using your free hand to pull down your panties. After you collapsed on your bed, you leisurely moved the receiver down south. When Freddy’s teeth clamped down on your bared neck, you rolled your head back. His rough sucking made you wince. It occurred to you that a supernatural murderer was giving you a hickey. 

Whether you wanted to or not, you knew you couldn’t stop him at that point. 

Freddy licked a stripe between your breasts as your phone passed them. You almost jumped when he darted into your belly button. Then he was lapping at your lower set of lips, demanding entrance. You pressed the receiver against your labia and shuddered when he slipped inside. More moans spilled out of you as you crossed your legs and humped at the possessed device. 

_Who needs vibrators?_ you thought. 

Once he started paying attention to your clitoris, climax was inevitable. Freddy dipped into you one last time, swirling his tongue all around your inner walls, before grazing your clit again.

xXx

You were still lying on your back. The phone’s cradle was empty, the phone itself on the floor next to your bed. Stretching, you noticed that your underwear wasn’t quite pulled up over your hips. There was also a cool, damp spot where your cum had leaked through. You kept a box of wipes discreetly tucked inside your desk for just that reason.

After cleaning yourself up, you leaned over to pick up the phone and gently wiped that off, too. Maybe Freddy would ring you up again later.


	2. Well, cum to prime time, bitch.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Imagine watching porn at Westin Hills Psychiatric Hospital.

One of the orderlies heard the moaning and walked in with a grin on his face. He probably expected to find a male patient beating his meat to Ginger Lynn.

His smile froze then disintegrated when he saw what you were doing on the couch. You paused but didn’t bother covering up. 

“Please go to bed soon,” he mumbled, walking right back out. “And turn down the volume.”

It was more embarrassing that you forgot to hit mute than getting caught. As soon as the manly love on the screen _was_ muted, you resumed diddling your skittle. To your surprise, the two main actors were interrupted by a burn victim wearing a clashing sweater and fedora.

 _Huh. Good on whatever company that produced this for being inclusive._

The new guy chased them offscreen, brandishing a clawed glove before the screen turned to static. It must be, you thought, some niche kink. And you were missing it.

Once you were standing in front of the television, you tried twisting the knob. When that didn’t work you balled your hand into a fist and gently hit the TV. 

_Come on, come on…_

Two long metallic arms shot out of its sides. As soon as you turned around they shot out and grabbed your thighs. You were turned upside down, your sensitive parts exposed. Squirming was of no use, the possessed television set’s grip was too strong.

“Let’s turn to channel sixty-nine,” growled a voice above you.


	3. Wet Dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Imagine seeing Freddy's hand rise out of the bathwater.

Your thighs, laying still against the sides of the tub, were on both sides of his artificial claws.

What really scared you was how surreal the whole situation was. (Later you realized it was a nightmare, but you were never a lucid dreamer…) Aside from the plugged drain, the floor of the bathtub didn’t have a hole. If it did, the water would have rushed down it when Freddy’s arm reached into your privacy. You shuddered, the bath’s warmth doing nothing to soothe you, and drew your crotch away. 

Just as you started lowering your legs and lifting your bottom, you felt his other hand cup your vulva. You fell back down onto an eager palm, splashing some water over the side in the process. Freddy pressed against you. For a few seconds you held your breath as his hand covered you from your perineum to your mons pubis. Then he made a victory sign, trailing his fore- and middle finger against your outer labia. 

Even excluding how exposed you were, the position you were in was uncomfortable. _My legs_ , you thought, _are going to give out soon._ And they did, sooner than you expected.

Freddy used his two fingers to spread your inner labia apart and you panicked, sure that he was going to try to line his dick up next. You fell back on his hand again, unintentionally impaling yourself on his fingers. You would have run screaming from the tub if it weren’t for the other, clawed hand. It made a “come hither” gesture, scraping your chin in the process. 

All you could do was whimper and try to relax as his digits explored you from the inside. Before he found your G-spot and stimulated it until you were forced to orgasm, you thought how funny it was that his burned hand felt pruney. Like it’d been waiting for you underwater for a while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tawneybelvedere.tumblr.com


	4. Why Aren't You Screaming?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Imagine brushing off your teammate’s advice about not falling asleep after having a nightmare about a terrifying burnt figure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Got a request on Tumblr for the remake. Jackie Earle Haley has a sexy voice and that's all I'll say on the matter.

“Seriously, not sleeping at all, Quentin? It was just one bad dream…” 

Your fellow swim teammate was already slightly clingy and weird around you and now he apparently was a bad advice giver as well. You doubted that your nightmare would turn out to be recurring, anyway. 

That night after shutting your eyes you found yourself in an unfamiliar room. You picked up a large stack of photos. They were from practices and meets. 

_Looks like I have an admirer._

It puzzled you how close up many of the shots were because you didn’t remember any photographers being near you. Confusion turned to discomfort as you flipped through the rest of the pictures. The ones where you were wearing a bathing suit were just the first half and by the halfway point many of them were close-ups of your mouth, chest, and nether regions.

The rest were of you in the locker room. Your hands shook as you realized these were taken the day the other girls left early to go to some event you’d been invited to but not interested in. What you _had_ been interested in that day was using the privacy to masturbate. 

You were leaning against your locker with your back towards the camera, not sitting on the bench with your legs spread like a centerfold, but it was obvious what you were doing. It had been one of the best orgasms of your life and you would have tried to cum at least one more time if you weren’t so worried about getting caught. The penultimate shot was of you cupping a hand over your mouth to contain your moans. The final one was you looking content, your eyelids heavy, the gaps between the fingers on your other hand filled by a thick webbing of cum. 

“______!” It was Quentin. 

Noticing you were upset, he embraced you and you realized he was wearing a speedo and dripping wet. The whole situation was so bizarre, the only explanation you could think of was-

“You’re dreaming.” Quentin grabbed your shoulders. “______, you need to-”

Whether in real life or the land of Nod, you weren’t going to take his advice to stay awake just to avoid the occasional bad dream. You decided to work through the situation and tell dream!Quentin about the nonconsensual photo shoot. 

“S-someone took these gross photos-”

“Those aren’t really photos,” a new voice, cool and deep, rang out of the darkness. It was the burn victim from the other night. “They’re memories.” He extended a claw towards Quentin. “ _His_ memories.”

As he sauntered over to you two, Quentin refused to let go and tried to push you to run with him. But what the stranger said made sense. Anger gripped you, making you turn away and try to wiggle free. 

A torrent of blood splattered your side and the grip on your shoulder weakened. The stranger pulled Quentin’s mutilated body away from you and let it drop to the floor.

“What, no thanks for taking care of that peeping tom for you?”

“This isn’t the kind of wet dream I’m used to, Mister-?”

He barked out a laugh. “Freddy.” 

You couldn’t read your own tone. Or really say how you felt. Quentin’s blood had soaked through to your underwear. 

“To be honest,” the man said as he leaned close, “I’m jealous he got to see you naked before I did.”

You stifled a flinch as he used his clawed glove to poke the base of your spine, scratching a line up your back before lifting his hand and framing your face with the blades.

“If _I_ caught you finger painting by yoursel-”

“‘Fingerpainting’?” You shook your head. “I was ovulating that day.” 

“If you touch yourself when you wake up,” Freddy’s claws trailed downwards until they were level with your crotch, “ _then_ you’ll be doing some finger painting with red paint.”

You frowned. “I’m not menstr-”

“I know. I’m going to fuck you’re raw and bloody, is what I mean.”


	5. Why Aren't You Screaming?: Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Continuation of the previous chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requested by someone on Tumblr.

“I… don’t want you to do that.” 

There wasn’t much dissonance between Freddy’s alluring voice and desire to inseminate you. But you didn’t like this new nightmare, how it was trying to morph itself into a wet dream.

“I don’t want to be ‘fucked raw and bloody.’”

“Just raw then.” Freddy tilted his head and leered. “You’re already drenched in loverboy’s blood. At least he got to cover you in a body fluid before he went dow-”

You smacked him across the face, not nearly as hard as you should have. He just turned back to you and widened his grin. _People only dream of faces they’ve seen in real life_ , you pondered. _Wouldn’t I have remembered a face like his?_

“I’ll just count that as a love tap.” 

Turning around, you thought you would find yourself in another dream. You were wrong. A calloused hand tugged your shorts down. Before you could trip over them Freddy swung you around and pressed your back against the wall, which had crept forward on its own. 

“You were never good at lucid dreaming, dear.” He brandished his claws. “But I am.”

“Then why am I doing it now?”

The memories were still in your hand. You willed the ends that weren’t facing you to be sharp as broken glass and fanned the stack out. He caught your wrist. The “photographs” fell, shattered, then melted into the floor. You were rapidly losing control of your own dream but at least you could protect your bare feet. 

“I’m the one who does the slashing here.”

_Here?_

Freddy used his bladed hand to reach into your gore-soaked panties, scraping you in the process. A patch of blood-matted pubic hair greeted him and he nodded appreciatively. 

“A little fuzz is nice then and again.” 

He ripped the underwear off your body. 

You considered surrendering and letting the nightmare run its course. Just removing your top and… The idea was scrapped when you remembered what happened to Quentin. Maybe he was a pervert, or maybe Freddy tricked you, but he had tried to save you.

 _This isn’t a dream_ , you realized. The shallow cuts along your abdomen were beginning to bead with blood. _This is something more than a dream._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tawneybelvedere.tumblr.com


	6. Why Aren't You Screaming?: Part 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So on Tumblr it was just requested that I do a second part but I think that person was expecting sex so here's a sex scene.

A finger ran itself up and down your soft, dry slit before wiggling inside. Freddy let out a chuckle when you involuntarily clenched. You were too terrified to be wet. But you were also afraid that arousal would come if he didn’t remove his digit soon.

Your fear came true as he rubbed along your inside, searching for your g-spot. Almost as soon as he found it he slipped back out. “Don’t want you too wet,” he taunted. A knife-finger almost raked against your cheek but you moved your head half an inch. In response your captor leaned forward and licked from the underside of your chin to just below your left eye. 

“It’s kind of hard to unzip when I’m wearing this.” The blades clinked together. “Do you mind giving me a hand?”

You swiveled your gaze towards his crotch and exhaled. Feeling his eyes on you, you bent your knees and undid his pants.

“So, what do you think?”

“This dream sucks,” you replied without thinking. 

“Tempting.” His free hand caressed your unlicked cheek. “But there’s plenty of time for that later, tomorrow, the night after that… This isn’t going to be a one-time thing, sweetheart.” 

You slowly rose again, expecting your back to reconnect with the wall. Instead you felt yourself fall backwards until your body thumped against a bed. Freddy pressed the dry palms of his burnt hands against your sweaty ones. The tip of his hard cock poked your vulva, making you squirm.

 _This isn’t going to be a one-time thing, sweetheart._

It sounded like he wasn’t planning on killing you. Or letting you go anytime soon. It may have been easier to just lay back and take it but the final moments of Quentin Smith kept playing themselves over and over in your mind. 

He lowered his hips so his erection was pressing at your hole. Both of Freddy’s hands were holding yours down. One fastened around your wrist and his grip became even tighter for a brief moment as he entered you. He sucked in his breath as your barely lubricated orifice tried to expel him. With a few more short thrusts he had pushed himself inside you enough to really stretch your walls. It felt like you were being ripped open. 

You stopped struggling as your vagina processed the pain. Your wide-eyed horror spurred your rapist further and his thrusts became faster and deeper.

“Aw, are you starting to like this? Or is it just more bleeding? Either way, _you’re wet for me._ ”

He began to slow down, dragging his dick almost entirely out before slamming back into your sore pussy. Nauseated, you realized that the pain had given way to discomfort. Your body _was_ starting to like it. 

When Freddy pressed his lips against yours you started squirming again. He licked sideways against your defiant grimace before biting down on your bottom lip. You gasped and his mouth covered your own again. His tongue reached back as far it could, like he was trying to get you to deepthroat it. As you sputtered and squeezed down on his cock, he settled for bullying your own shy tongue into playing with his. 

As he continued pounding away, you felt yourself actually become aroused to the point where you weren’t thinking of Quentin or how disgusting the situation was. Only your impending orgasm mattered. As soon as you shuddered through the first climax and began to think clearly, Freddy got to work on making you cum again. And again and again. 

The next morning, when you woke up, you couldn’t recall whether he came inside you or not. You sat up. Your cunt was tender and oozing more vaginal discharge than you could ever recall being capable of producing. There was some blood mixed in with the clear fluid but no semen. For all you knew some of the liquid could be precum. If he was able to supernaturally murder your teammate and violate you, what else was he capable of?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did Freddy know where your G-spot was because he's peering into your unconscious mind or because of your reaction? It's up to your imagination.
> 
> tawneybelvedere.tumblr.com


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Imagine being put on Hypnocil so Freddy decided to possess your crush Jesse to get to you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First part of a request.

“Jesse, do you want to put your diary in a different location now that I know where you keep it?” 

“Diary?”

“It’s not yours?” you asked as you stepped away from the closet. Your crush shook his head but you offered the red journal to him anyway. “Must have been left by the previous owner.”

He took it from you and flipped through a few pages. “Someone named Nancy Thompson. Yeah, it’s this address. From a few years ago.” 

_Nancy?_ Nancy? _Not... his Nancy?_

For a long moment you forgot the boy beside you. 

Jesse wouldn’t understand, you decided. Even if you showed him the pill bottle, he wouldn’t understand that Hypnocil did more than stop bad dreams. The drug prevented you from being assaulted every night. You lost count of how many mornings you’d woken up with a sore vagina, slick and oozing a mixture of your own cum and Freddy Krueger’s dead semen. Or maybe nothing was wrong with his sperm count and he was just so inhuman your gametes weren’t compatible. 

At first you thought your house was being broken into. But there was no physical evidence, aside from the secretions your body absorbed before you could show anyone. Setting a camera up didn’t help either: you just looked like you were pretending to be attacked by a ghost. (Which you supposed he was, in a way.) The few people you told thought the nightmares were stress-induced, mundane. And you had to let them keep thinking that. 

At least you didn’t have to keep setting aside money for pregnancy tests that always turned out negative and had to be thrown away in a Springwood High School bathroom’s tampon disposal box. And the bitemarks—you refused to call them hickeys—and (thankfully) light scratches had long since faded. 

“You okay, ______?”

“ _Yeah_ ,” huffed from your mouth. “Well, I guess it’s yours now.” And you started reading it aloud, because you felt you needed to.

“‘Sometimes when I’m lying here in bed I can see Glen in his window across the way, getting ready for bed. His body is slim and smooth and I know I shouldn’t watch him but that part of me that wants him forces me to. That’s when I wake up. That’s when I want to go to him.’”

Swallowing, you realized Jesse Walsh had taken a seat next to you on his bed. You hadn’t realized you had sat down. His leg was so close to touching yours but he didn’t seem to notice. He was staring at the entry. A giggle floated out of you as you forced yourself to find Miss Thompson’s description of perving on her neighbor funnier than it actually was. 

You were pretty sure the oneiric bastard had mentioned a victim named Glen. From the way Freddy mentioned his victims, you were pretty sure he used to be a murderer as well as a rapist. Or maybe just a wannabe sex offender. Based on the mostly one-sided conversations, he hadn’t been a virgin when he met you. It wouldn’t have surprised you if rape was somewhere in the backstory. 

“Can I see that?” Jesse asked and you wordlessly handed the book over again. “‘March 15th. He comes to me at night-’” _Well, better “to” than “inside”, Nan._ “‘-horrible, ugly, dirty. Under the sheets with me. Tearing at my nightgown with his steel claws.’” Your crush looked suitably perplexed as he turned the page. “‘His name is Fred and he keeps trying to take me to the boiler room. He wants to kill me.’” 

Maybe in time he would have done that to you but, to you, he was “Freddy”, not “Fred”. Without looking, you instructed Jesse to continue. You didn’t want to listen anymore but…

“______, this isn’t, _too_ disturbing-?”

_I can say “stop” this time._ “Yeah, maybe we shouldn’t be reading it before bed.”

“Before bed?” he teased. “Did you come over because you wanted to spend the night?”

“...Do you want me to spend the night?”

Your fingers curled inwards before you forced yourself to relax. You let your hand glide across the bedsheet to Jesse’s thigh. He didn’t say anything as you felt the denim and pictured what his jeans would look like crumpled on the floor, so you lifted your gaze. Jesse stared back, lips parted ever so slightly. Even though he was the first one to start closing his eyes, you initiated the kiss. Your crush

_...was it ever only one-sided…?_

broke it off first but carefully put his hands on your shoulders. As he reconnected with your mouth, he trailed down your back, making you lean in closer, and stopped at the small of it. Then your waist was gently seized. 

“______…”

“So I can spend the night?”

“Yeah, of course.” 

You rested your head in the crook of his neck. “No sex. At least not tonight. Or tomorrow morning. I kind of want to get to know you better first, okay?”

“That’s fair,” chuckled Jesse. His right hand crossed over to your other hip as the left moved up to caress the side of your face. “I want to get to know you better, too…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tawneybelvedere.tumblr.com


End file.
